


Good Vibrations

by Geonn



Category: Psych
Genre: F/M, Humor, Masturbation, Older Woman/Younger Man, Seduction, Sexual Fantasy, Temptation, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-02
Updated: 2012-05-02
Packaged: 2017-11-04 17:51:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karen finally decides to test Shawn Spencer's psychic abilities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Vibrations

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in my own personal AU where Karen Vick, to avoid being penalized by the Santa Barbara Police Department as a single mother, lied about her husband's existence when she was still an interim chief. So she's single.

The idea occurred to her during one of Lassiter's endless briefings. She was chewing on the end of her pen when she saw Mr. Spencer and Mr. Guster cross by in front of the office. He peered through the blinds, waved, and then headed to payroll to get his latest check. She had to admit, the man was astonishing sometimes. She'd worked with veterans of the force with thirty years of detective work under their belts, and none of them matched Shawn's insight or could match his success rate. 

But psychic? Over the years she'd gone back and forth on whether or not she bought that particular story. Every now and then he did something that defied belief, but a part of her knew that if she could just follow him around for a day, she would understand how some of his more unbelievable antics were pulled off.

Of course, there were ways she could confirm he was the real deal. She could just barely see him at the cashier's desk, bending forward so that his jeans were pulled taut across his ass. She rolled her tongue over the tip of her pen and focused her thoughts.

_Can you hear me, Mr. Spencer? Are you picking up on my thoughts? Or is that 'not how your gift works'? Because it can seem awfully specific at times. Sometimes I think if I could figure out how you do it, I could convince you to drop the act. Get you on the force for real. But that wouldn't fit your style, would it?_

"Chief?"

"I'm listening, Carlton."

He seemed dubious, but continued speaking. Karen decided to try a different tactic, something she knew Shawn wouldn't be able to ignore if he overheard it.

_I think about you sometimes. And I've wondered if you've felt those guilty thoughts when you walk into my office the day after. Lying in the bathtub, thinking of your smile or your voice. I run my hands over my chest and I imagine they're yours. It makes me so wet to imagine being with you, knowing you could sense my every need and desire. You could anticipate my wants even before I knew I wanted them. My hands glide between my thighs and I cup the water against my pussy and I imagine it's your tongue as I move my fingers._

_Surely you can see it on my face the next morning, truly psychic or not. I wear my guilt as blatantly as anyone we've ever arrested. But you never say anything. Maybe it's because you only have eyes for O'Hara. But no... you care about me. Even I can sense that, and I'm no psychic. Why else would you have gone pro bono to save my job?_

_Would you be interested, I wonder? The age difference shouldn't be an issue. I'm sure if I presented the offer, you would be hard-pressed to refuse._

_I imagine myself in your office sometimes. Confronting you with my skepticism and forcing you to admit what I know in my heart is true. I imagine you throwing yourself on my mercy, begging me to stay quiet. And I would. You know I would. After what you did to get me this job, and what you've done for the department, I would never throw you to the wolves._

_But I would make you work for it, Mr. Spencer. I would make you earn my silence. I picture you kissing me. Slowly at first. Uncertain. Then with more passion. We'd undress each other slowly and you'd lay me on the couch under the window._

She crossed her legs and casually dropped her hand to her lap. She pressed her fingers against the crotch of her pants and moved her hips in slow circles. As slow as she dared. Lassiter was focused on his report, and O'Hara seemed to be doodling pictures on her copy of the report as her partner droned on. 

Shawn and Gus had retrieved their check and were on their way back out. Shawn hurried over to the glass and thumped his hand against it. Lassiter jumped, and glared through the blinds at him. Shawn pinched the ends of the check with both hands, then bowed to them in thanks. 

"Cocky SOB," Lassiter groused.

_Stroke your cock for me, Mr. Spencer. Take it out, make it hard, come all over the glass of my office so I can see the stain all day and know I caused it._

Shawn put his hand under his chin and wagged his fingers at Lassiter. Then he glanced at Karen, gave a more sincere gesture of thanks, and then nudged Gus and followed him to the exit. Lassiter snorted derisively and looked back at his notes. "Great... where was I?"

"Uh..." O'Hara scratched the back of her neck.

"I think you were, uh, at the part where..."

Lassiter rolled his eyes. "Neither of you were paying attention? Fine. From the top. I can do this all day." He cleared his throat and began to read. O'Hara mock-sobbed silently and settled in for the long haul.

Karen smiled and pulled her chair closer to the table. Shawn might be an excellent poker player, but there was no way his poker face was that good. Just like she hadn't heard a word of Lassiter's report, Shawn hadn't heard a single thing she'd thought and all she'd accomplished was a pressing need to visit the bathroom for a little stress relief as soon as Lassiter shut up. 

Of course, the test was hardly definitive. She rested her elbow on the desk and pressed her little finger into her mouth, nibbling on the nail. If she wanted to prove anything conclusively, she would just have to repeat her experiment as long as it took to get some real evidence.


End file.
